


I've Given Up On You - Real Friends

by miilkteeth



Series: Songs prompts [6]
Category: Hat Films - Fandom
Genre: Breakup, M/M, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-28 22:26:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7659202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miilkteeth/pseuds/miilkteeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I've given up on you, but it still hurts to know you're not alone."</p>
            </blockquote>





	I've Given Up On You - Real Friends

**Author's Note:**

> kinda stuck on things to write for Ghost In My Head so i needed some emo-smornby shit to help lmao

It was another one of those nights that Smith spent alone in his apartment. The silence seemed to echo around the empty space making it feel less like a home and more like a, well, normal building. He lay on his side of the bed, eyes open and wandering despite it been 4am. Thoughts ran around his head stopping him from closing his eyes that had been weighed down with bags from sleepless nights.

Blue eyes that were once so comforting became something that he could drown in. Each time Smith shut his eyes the image of  _ him _ bathed in light, covered by the duvet on the other side of the bed, eyes bright with laughter, was the only thing he could see and focus on. Moments like that used to be cherished and he wished they could be put into a frame to be displayed like the works of art they were.

Smith knew that he’d never get anything like that. He gave up on Ross a long time ago after the arguments and the fallouts never ended. At first their relationship was like a film. There were date nights filled with compliments and flowers, days where both of them would be crying with laughter, attempts at baking which quickly turned into food fights, picnics in mid-summer, late night/early morning serenades. It was pure bliss for Smith.

The days leading to their break up were the worst of his life.

On the first night two boys sat in their living room after dinner. Smith had attempted cuddling up to Ross but the dark haired man would just shift away uncomfortably and ignore him. It didn’t bother him much, he thought that Ross was just having a bad day and wanted to be left alone.

When Smith got up to go to bed, Ross didn’t follow him.

It happened the next night and one after that. On and on it went until Smith couldn’t take it anymore and when he got up to get some sleep he stood for a moment thinking of the worst possible thing that could happen if he just said what was on his mind.

“Why don’t you come to bed anymore?” he asked, voice shaking slightly. “I miss you.”

Ross turned his head from the TV to stare at Smith before answering, “I can’t.”

“You can’t?” Smith questioned back. “Can’t what?”

“I can’t be in the same bed as you. I can’t lie there and pretend to be happy. I can’t do this,” Ross sighed, exasperated after a second filled with silence between them.

“What?” Smith replied in pure shock and confusion. Ross shook his head and stood up, making his way to the kitchen. “Where are you going?”

“To get myself a drink,” Ross answered, pouring himself a glass of the first alcohol he pulled out of the cupboard and downing it, wincing at the bitter taste. “If we’re talking about this now I’m going to need one.”

“What do you mean,  _ talking about this _ ,” Smith asked, putting air quotations around the last part. He had no clue what would come next. The thought scared him and overcrowded his brain with the worst possible thoughts. As this happened, Ross was stood there staring like he couldn’t decide how to handle the situation between them.

He eventually began to talk again saying “it’s not you, it’s me” and “he didn’t feel like he was growing as a person” amongst other things. Smith stood as Ross spurted out the cliché ways to end a relationship like he’d memorised them off an article. Eventually he ended his speech of overworked phrases and Smith just came out with a humourless laugh.

“Jesus fucking Christ Ross,” Smith got out after his dry laugh, “that’s the lamest thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

“I don’t understand,” Ross said.

“Of course you don’t. I get the message though,” he paused. “I don’t make you happy anymore.”

“No that’s not what i mea-” Ross tried to save himself but was cut off by Smith’s laugh.

“It’s exactly what you meant, don’t even try to hide it Ross, you’re not happy because of me,” he spat out, anger fuelling each word. It was the same as so many of their other fights. Ross would say something stupid then Smith would get angry and lose control of himself. His brain was telling him to end it there and then because after all this;  _ maybe Ross had a point _ . 

“Maybe you have a point,” Smith said. 

_ Maybe they weren’t good for eachother. _

“Maybe we’re not good for eachother.”

_ Maybe they should breakup. _

“Maybe we should breakup.”

_ Maybe he should stay out of his life. _

“Maybe I should stay out of your life!” Smith finished with a yell which managed to infuriate Ross who shouted “ _ fine! _ ” before storming into their room and hastily packing as many clothes as he could into a duffel bag thrown in their wardrobe.

Smith grabbed Ross’ discarded glass and downed the remaining drink, whatever the hell it was. At that point he didn’t care and just needed it to be over. He didn’t look up when Ross came out of their room with his things and he definitely didn’t look up as the door slammed.

Weeks went without Ross coming back for his stuff. One of their mutual friends, Trott, came to get it every so often instead.

“Just because I’ve come to get Ross’ things doesn’t mean I’m on his side in this,” he said as he packed boxes.

“There were no sides,” Smith stated, taking a gulp of whiskey, “he said he wasn’t happy and I told him we should break up if that’s what he wanted.”

“Sure, whatever,” Trott shrugged, “if that’s what you want to believe then fine but I’m here if you need anything.”

“Just one thing before you go,” Smith stopped Trott.

“Yeah what?”

“Is Ross you know,” Smith gestured a bit with his hands, “ _seeing_ anyone?”

Trott sighed and put the box down by the door before answering, “He’s been talking to a guy for about, I don’t know, uh, two weeks?”

“Right,” Smith drank the last bit of his drink and nodded, trying to hide his disappointment. “I won’t keep you any longer you can go.”

“Are you sure you seem pretty ups-”

“Just  _ go _ ,” Smith shouted, his voice beginning to crack as he pointed towards the door. Trott slowly made his way out.

Upon hearing the news that Ross might be seeing someone else, Smith was devastated. When Trott left he broke down in tears. He didn’t want to think about Ross seeing anyone else but him,  _ being _ with anyone else but him.

Sometimes Smith would check Ross’ Facebook and see posts with some guy. He looked happier than he ever had with Smith and that hurt deep down. Night after night he would lay awake and stare at the ceiling, watching changing shapes from the lights outside. Silence would forever surround him, music that once gave him joy spoilt by memories of Ross. He’d given up on any possibility of their relationship restarting but it hurt to know that he’d been replaced. Staying true to his word he kept out of Ross’ life and just suffered in silence, always awake. The thought of Ross kept him up at night and he bet that he didn’t even cross his mind.

  
After months, Smith had given up completely. He was skin and bones, tired eyes, unruly hair, breath that permanently smelled of alcohol. He was a mess.


End file.
